The Other Lennox Girl
by Rivan Warrioress
Summary: Crummy title. Mary and her older sister Elizabeth are seperated when they arrive in England. This is Elizabeth's story. I suck at summary writing
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, except for my OC's. I also do not own any of the places mentioned in this fan fiction **

Chapter 1- Growing Up

My sister, Mary, and I had never been what you would call 'close' prior to our parents' death. I was seven years older than her, and although I did not consider myself superior to her in any way, and treated her as an equal, she was probably intimidated by me.

My name is Elizabeth Lennox. My story begins when I was five years old. It was then that my parents and I left England to go to India, where my father had been posted. I've always generally dislike India, a fact that my parents, although they were aware of it, generally ignored, much like myself. I had an Ayah, clothes, books, toys and several tutors, everything they thought a small girl like me could ever want or need, but it was not some materialistic thing I craved for in those early years In India, but my own parents affection, something I never gained. I was under the impression that I was unwanted by my parents, a mistake that was never meant to happen, so I was shocked to my core when I was told by my Ayah that I would soon have a baby brother or sister to play with. When Mary was born, I had months ago concluded and accepted that the baby would either be treated vastly superior than I was, or it was another mistake on my parents' behalf. I soon discovered it was the latter.

I now often ponder what if Mary had been born earlier on in our life in India, or if one or both of us had been male, would things be different? If Mary had been born before I grew sour over parents' rejection of me, would I have behaved better towards her than I wan in reality?

As Mary grew older, it seemed she would take more after our father. We were both sickly, as he was, but she had his hair coloring his looks from a early age. I took more after our mother, with long, thick, wavy dark hair, and blue eyes that seemed to sparkle, and laugh. My Ayah often said you could tell when I was happy, by looking in my eyes, as they seemed to smile. This occurred rarely, however.

Both Mary and I had very yellow, sallow complexions, something I have always blamed India for. We were vastly different in other ways, however. I was very independent, compared to her. I made a point of dressing myself, while she never learnt how to. Mary enjoyed being outside more than I, although she despised the sand. I often used to watch her build little gardens with rocks from my room's window. I was happy to sit through my tutoring, while Mary protested strongly against it. I think that stemmed from our greatest difference, born from our greatest similarity, the method of which we chose to attract our parent's attention. While she protested and rebelled against everything they taught her, while I meekly agreed with everything I was ordered to do, turning my back on my own little sister in a vain attempt to gain the favor of my parents.

At about the time of my 16th birthday, which was the last I celebrated in India, I was allowed to attend a party my parents were hosting. When I was told, I near busted with excitement. To think that I was permitted to attend one of the parties that my parents were so fond of. As the date of the party neared, however, I felt my excitement wane, as I was paid no more attention that was usual in the lead up to the party, so I spent the majority of my time with Mary, while everywhere around us, everyone was caught up in the preparations for the party, my parents especially, ordering themselves new clothes and other ornaments.

I failed to see what my parents saw in parties. I found the one I attended incredibly dull, and I felt uncomfortable amongst my parent's friends, who saw me as a strange dirty little child. I forced myself to smile graciously when I was introduced to the many dignitaries present, as I had been taught during the numerous etiquette lessons' I had sat, and mostly day dreamed, through. Every time I greeted a dignitary correctly, I would glance hopefully in my parent's direction, hoping for some sign of approval, some sign of acknowledgement, a nod or a smile, or even a subtle little wink cast in my direction was all I needed, but I received nothing of the sort.

For once, my Parents' seemed to take what I wanted into account, and I was never invited to a party again. Most of me was glad about this, but there was a part of me that felt like I had somehow disappointed my parents, that I had gone against there wishes. I sought confidence in my Ayah, and I was told that everything would return to normal soon, but I had a gut feeling that it would never be normal ever again.

It turned out that I was right.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The moment the earth stopped shaking, I ran to our parents room, knowing that was where Mary would be. I was terrified for her safety, and I thought I would die if something had happened to her. I did not spare a though for our parents while the attended another party, until I was sure of Mary's survival, and we were informed of their death. Even then, Mary had been the utmost in my mind.

It wasn't until the night following our parent's death that I cried, but not for them, it was for the praise, the acknowledgement, the love and attention that Mary and I had never, and would never, receive. I did not ask Mary if she had cried, as I already knew what the answer would be.

Mary and I spent more time together in the weeks that followed our parents death than we ever had previously. Mary was uncomfortable around the other children of the boat to England, and I wanted to keep her close to me. I, however, said nothing as the other children teased her mercilessly, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was one of the elder children on the boat, and there seemed to be a disprortionate number of children to adults, so it was often left to myself, and two other girls to be the 'mothers' on the trip, something I think Mary strongly resented. When we reached London, and we reminded of our numbers and set out on the dock, where our numbers were read out, and we were collected. Neither Mary or I were collected, and we were left on the dock, under the supervision of the elderly man who arranged the reunion of the other lost orphans, and their families. Eventually, a severe looking, elderly woman approached us, and I bent to retrieve our bags, Mary following my lead.

"I'm looking for Mary Lennox. I came on behalf of her uncle, Lord Craven of Missethwaite inYorkshire. I am his house keeper, Mrs. Medlock"

"Ah yes, Mary Lennox. That's the younger one. The older one is her sister." The elderly man told her, consulting his books.

"Hmmm, Mr. Craven told me that he had made arrangements for the older girl with her uncle on her father's side. We have little time for two young ones. Very well come along, Mary"

I almost let my jaw drop, but I regained my composure. I knelt in front of Mary, embracing her.

"It'll be alright, Mary. You will be well cared for. I will write to you frequently, I promise." I told her. Mary nodded, gripping her suitcase tightly. I smiled at her, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, before she stepped back and followed the women from the dock area. Not long afterwards, I was collected by a middle aged man, with grey eyes and a black moustache.

I was placed in a carriage and taken to a area of upper class London. My companion, who introduced himself as Mr. Barry, seemed to be amused at my interest as we were driven through the crowded streets to a stately looking house. It was made of white marble, and had large windows that faced out onto the street. I was taken out of the carriage, and lead into my uncle's study. It was there that I saw my uncle for the first time. He had short, dirty blond colored hair, and brown eyes. He was tall, and carried himself in a proud manner. He looked at me as Mr. Barry introduced me to him.

"Very good, Barry. Escort our young guest to her quarters. Miss Lennox, I trust you understand the need for rules in the house" I nodded, "very good. You are not to leave the upper two floors without my permission, you are not to write any letters, you are to do as you are told, and you are to call me Mr. Lennox. Is that understood?"

I nodded once again, and my uncle nodded to Mr. Barry. He led me up several flights of stares, before leading me into a small room. It was crammed with a small bed, and a dressing table. The room was dirty, and cobwebs clung to the walls. Mr. Barry told me where the lavatory was, then hurried away, leaving me sitting on my bed.

It was not long until I adapted to my life as a servant of my Uncle's, as that was all that I was in his eyes. Despite the appearances of is house, my uncle was very poor, and had a gambling problem. A notorious drunk, my Uncle was extremely jealous of my father, and often took out his anger on me. I was regularly beaten during his drunken rages. I was also often locked in my room with no food, and my health began to suffer. I was regularly ill, and I almost died of an infection during the winter. Despite this, I became close friends with the two other maids that my uncle had. Their names were Alberta and Hermione. Alberta was the oldest of us. She was tall and graceful, with red hair, and sparkling blue eyes. Hermione was younger, with a willowy figure, and long blonde hair that framed her face well. I often talked to them about my life previous to coming to England, and they were fascinated by India. I told them stories that my Ayah used to tell me, and we would often sit up long in the night, talking. It was those times that I missed Mary the most. I prayed daily that she was being looked after well.

There is something else that was interesting about my time with Mr. Lennox, was that I suddenly began having dreams about my mother's twin sister. I had few memories of her from before we went to India, but I was always very fond of her. I dreamt of her garden, playing with Mary and Myself as a youth, as she did the few times I visited her before India. I dreamt of her pushing Mary and I on the swing. One night, instead of our aunt being with Mary and I, it was our mother. She ran away from us, and the world seemed to shake. I woke up crying that morning, for the first time since my arrival in England.

Not long afterwards, Mr. Lennox received a letter from my Uncle, Lord Craven, but I was never told what it was about. I can only assume that whatever it was about made Mr. Lennox furiously angry, as he beat me again that night, worse than ever before. That nigh I crawled to my bed, crying. Alberta and Hermione looked after me that nigh, as I drifted in out of sleep, my head screaming in pain. The next morning, I was bruised all over, and my mind was very foggy. I slowly recovered from the injuries, avoiding my uncle as much as possible. By a week later, most of the bruises had faded to a pale yellow, and the open cuts I had sustained from the whip lashes I had earned for whatever was in the letter had healed to red lines that cut across my body. It was that day that I was sitting upon the stairs, just after lunch, looking down at the foyer, when a hurry of activity told me of the arrival of some important guest. Interested, I hurried down the stairs, stopping at the limit my uncle had placed upon me. From here, I could see better who it was. Eventually, I saw the guest cross the foyer. He was tall and thin, with dark, shoulder length hair and a long nose. I vaguely recognized him, but I could not place where from. I lost sight of him, but I could guess from the direction he was walking towards as he crossed the foyer that he was walking towards Mr. Craven's office. At that stage I went to do my chores, my mind trying to puzzle out why the tall stranger was familiar to me. After what seemed like hours, I heard Mr. Lennox's office door slam closed. The noise of it caused me to jump. At the time, I was polishing the silver. I was sitting on a low stool in the scullery, when I heard Alberta and Hermione calling my name. I stood up as the entered the scullery. They took my hands excitedly.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"There is a man here asking for you." Hermione squealed

"He is a noble of some description" Alberta added.

"What does he look like" I asked.

"He's tall, with deep grey eyes and shoulder length brown hair." Alberta told me. I let them pull me towards the stairs, my mind working faster than it had been before. It was defiantly the man who I had seen crossing the foyer earlier. Why did he want to see me? Perhaps I had been sold, or traded by Mr. Lennox to this man, and he wanted to examine his latest acquisition. I wished I looked slightly more respectable. I looked even more pale and sickly than I ever had before, and I had lost a great deal of weight. I was still not completely recovered from my last bought of illness, and I was still coughing occasionally. I knew that any knew prospective master would never take me in for fear that I would spread disease through his house, although I was almost sure that I wasn't contagious. No one else in the house hold had been sick. If they had then I would probably have been killed just to make life easier by Mr. Lennox. My clothes were grubby, and my hair was dirty and greasy. I followed Alberta and Hermione down the stairs, until we reached the first landing. I looked down into the foyer, at the man. I instantly recognized him.

"My Lord" I stammered, curtseying, before hurrying down the stairs towards him. Of everyone I had guessed our guest was, Lord Craven was the least likely. As I stepped into the foyer, Mr. Lennox joined Lord Craven in the foyer and looked at me.

"There she is, Lord Craven. There was nothing for you to be worrying about" he told Lord Craven. I stayed silent as Lord Craven slowly approached me. He was a great deal taller than I was, and I found myself looking down at the floor, remembering being beaten for meeting Mr. Lennox's gaze. I wondered if both of my uncles were cruel. I instinctively pulled away as Lord Craven reached towards my face, fearful that he was going to hit me. He used his other hand to hold my face still as he gently cupped my face, shifting my gaze upwards, into his eyes. My eyes betrayed my fear, and I began to tremble.

"Why is she so frightened, Mr. Lennox?" Lord Craven asked. Mr. Lennox hurried to Lord Craven's side.

"I do not know, Lord Craven. She was like this when she came" he lied, his eyes darting towards me, warning me to stay silent.

"Elizabeth, do you know who I am?' he asked. I shakily nodded.

"You are Lord Craven, my Uncle" I told him, my voice shaking. I blinked, confused. Why was he being so nice?

"Do you know why I am here?" Lord Craven asked. I shook my head.

"No Lord Craven" I stammered. Lord Craven then did the most surprising thing ever. He smiled. Not a false, sadistic smile that I had been used to receiving ever since I had returned to England, but a real, genuine honest smile.

"My child, I have come to take you home" he told me. I froze for a moment, allowing the statement to sink in. Then I sobbed.

"I beg your pardon, my Lord" I cried, but you must be mistaken.

"There is no mistake, Elizabeth. I could never mistake the daughter of my beloved wife's sister. You look so much like your Aunt, you know." He told me. I tried to blink the tears out of my eyes.

"But my Lord, I am but a maid in this house…"

"No, you are so much more than that, especially if your sister is anything to go by" Lord Lennox ran his fingers through my hair. I stiffened.

"Mary? How is she? Does she behave herself?" I started to ask questions, but Mr. Lennox cuts across me.

"That doesn't matter, Lord Craven, are you going to take the girl then?"

"Yes of course I would. Why wouldn't I? Her sister is worried about her, which is why I am here. When Mary received no response to the letters she sent." Lord Craven stated, addressing Mr. Lennox.

"Mary sent me letters?" I asked, confused.

"Why yes, child, did you not receive them?" Lord Craven asked me. I shook my head.

"No, I received no mail while I was here. I'm sorry Mary was upset, but I couldn't send her any myself"

"Why is that?" Lord Craven asked. I bowed my head, remembering Mr. Lennox's warning.

"Because I wasn't allowed to" I mumbled, but I knew Lord Craven heard me. I saw on his face the moment he figured everything out. He angrily turned to Mr. Lennox.

"You kept those letters from her, and you forbade her from writing to her own sister. You kept her as your own servant, and you failed to look after her well. You punished her, didn't you? That's why she is so scared" Lord Craven accused Mr. Lennox angrily. I shied away slightly, but no one noticed. My head was beginning to ache again, but I was too scared to speak, especially when Lord Craven turned to face me again.

"Elizabeth, why don't you go and get your things, if Mr. Lennox hasn't taken those as well." He told me, his voice gentle once more, but I could tell he was still angry. I hurried back up the stairs, and Hermione followed me. I knew Alberta stayed so she could tell Hermione I what happened Later. As I walked along the corridor near my room, a wave of dizziness swept over me, and Hermione grabbed my arm as I staggered.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" she asked. I nodded and took a deep breath, feeling the weakness fade. I walked onwards, slower than before, until I reached my room. I pulled my suitcase that I had brought from India out from under the bed, and Hermione helped me as I packed up my belongings. I could still hear the muffled sounds of shouting from the foyer, and I winced. Suddenly, the yelling stopped, and I looked at Hermione.

"What do you think just happened?" I asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know" she admitted. I frowned and placed the last of my trinkets into the suitcase. Then I heard footsteps coming down the hall, and Hermione went to the closed door, curiously opening it just as Lord Craven came level with it, Alberta only a couple of paces behind. Lord Craven entered the room, looking around my room. I met his eyes as I pulled the heavy suitcase from the bed.

"So this is where you were kept?" he asked me, and I nodded. He scowled for a moment, and then beckoned, seeming to be suddenly nervous.

"Come, good child. Let us leave." He told me, and I swallowed, suddenly nervous myself. I followed him from the room and down the stairs. I paused for a moment in the foyer, and did Lord Craven. I lowered my suitcase and embraced my friends, thanking them profusely for the kindness they had shown towards me. The returned my embraces, sobbing quietly, and waving away my thanks. My uncle met eyes, then hastily looked away. I knew the meaning of that look. It was time for me to leave this home. I looked at Mr. Lennox, and curtseyed politely, before picking up my suitcase and following my uncle out into the day. We were shown into a carriage, and my suitcase was taken from me. Lord Craven and I sat in silence for a brief period of time as we were driven through London.

"How fares my sister? Is she well?" I asked him, and Lord Craven looked at me.

"She is in very good health. Being at the manor has done her a great deal of good, from what I have heard" he told me. I paused for a moment, confused by what he meant, before deciding to just let it go.

"How is my Aunt?" I asked. A look of great sadness crossed my uncle's face, and I felt a part of my world collapse. Not my Aunt, please not my Aunt.

"She died, a long time ago" he told me, and I felt empty. I bowed my head, hiding my eyes, as I knew they would be filled with tears.

"I'm very sorry, Lord Craven" I told him. He gently patted my shoulder.

"It's alright, child. Before she died, she gave you and Mary a cousin. His name is Colin." I looked up at him, a small smile on my face.

"How old is Colin?" I ask.

"The same age as Mary, a couple of months older though" he told me. I smile. At least Mary would have had someone to play with. I sat in silence as Lord Craven wiped my tears away. We eventually pulled up outside an upper class hotel. I looked at Lord Craven curiously.

"It is too late in the day to begin a journey to Miselthwaite" he tells me, and I nod, understanding. We are shown to a suite in a upper floor. There is a large living room, as well as a lounge, dining room, study, bathroom, and two large bedrooms. I carry my Suitcase into one of them, and dropped it in shock. I had never seen so much splendor in my life, even when I was in India. I grin, before meeting Lord Craven in the lounge. He is more relaxed now, and asks me a great deal of questions, mainly on what had happened to me since I left India. It was nearing dinner time when he asked a question that shocked me.

"Do you have any memories of your Aunt from your youth?" he asked. I paused for a moment.

"Yes, Lord Craven. I do have some memories, mainly of her playing with me in the garden, when I was very small. I remember sitting on her lap and being on the swing, and I remember feeling so loved" I smiled at the memory. Lord Craven, too, smiled.

"One day, you shall return to the garden" Lord Craven promised me, "and you don't have to be so formal, Elizabeth, you can call me uncle, or whatever you like. I won't hurt you"

"Thank you, Lord, I mean, Uncle." I smiled at my mistake, and so did my Uncle. We then ate dinner, which was one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted. After dinner, I retired for the night to my bedroom. I snuggled up into the bed and fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of the Garden


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I awoke early the next morning, and a maid helped me wash. I changed into one of my better dresses, and met my Uncle for breakfast. I realized I was very hungry, and I found the soft crumpets we were served irresistible. My uncle watched me, an amused smile upon his face as I crushed my appetite. We then departed the hotel, and we were back in the carriage. We were driven to the train station, and directed to a compartment to ourselves. I found that my excitement was building, and I watched the scenery slowly go from the city, to the rolling fields of the countryside. My uncle cleared his throat.

"Tell me, child, do you mss your mother and father much?"

"Not as much as I expected, uncle. They were never cruel, or violent towards Mary and I, but they always seemed so distant to us, as if they did not think that we were worthy of their attention, however much we longed for it. I fear that I may have deserted Mary in the same way, as I got older. We were never what I would call close, you see."

"Mary told me that you were studious, and enjoyed partaking in etiquette classes." He commented, and I laughed.

"Well, I suppose I did learn to tolerate such pursuits, but, in reality, I was just complying with our parent's wishes in some vain hope that it might bring me some ounce of recognition, some slight acknowledgement of my existence. Mary took a less subtle option than I did."

"Which was?"

"Open rebellion of everything and anything that was requested of her. I can't blame her. It sort of worked, more than my attempt did anyway." I told him, a small smile on my face as I remembered watching Mary being brought before our mother after one tantrum, or another, and actually feeling jealous of her.

"Her life in India must have been very different to her life at Missethwaite then." He concluded.

"Has Mary been making a nuisance of herself?' I asked, half dreading the answer.

"No, quite the opposite, in fact. She's brought something that has been gone ever since your beloved aunt passed away back to Missethwaite. You shall understand when we arrive there."

"Yes uncle"

"Tell me, Elizabeth, do you remember much of the manor. You were very young when I saw you last, and I wonder how much you remember."

"I remember my Aunt in Garden, and I remember that it was very large, with lots of corridors, and rooms, and I remember being frightened of getting lost. I remember you as well, uncle, with Auntie, standing with me, playing with me, and I remember feeling so, so loved, like I really belonged there." I said, caught up in the dim memories, so far back that I could barely remember. My uncle smiled, and I smiled back, a strange, but somehow familiar feeling beginning to trickle through my body. It took me a while, but I finally recognized it. It was that feeling of belonging, returning to me, like I was returning to Missethwaite manor.

SG SG SG SG SG

Darkness had fallen by the time we were crossing the deserted moor. I looked out of the carriage, filled with wonder at how dark the night was, even after the short time I had spent in London. Nighttime in the city had always seemed so bright. By the light given off by the lanterns that hung from the carriage, I could see the passing bushes and shrubs that seemed to go on for ever through the inky darkness. I looked over her shoulder at Lord Craven, who had fallen asleep. I had slept briefly on the train journey, and was far to excited by the idea of seeing Mary once again to even think about the possibility of going to sleep.

On the voyage over from India, I had, eventually, got used to the idea of the size of the world, and my insignificance in size compared to that of the world, but it surprised me that something could be so large, and yet so empty, especially in a country so small as England, considering I had grown up in the vast, over populated spaces, of India.

I shifted slightly as the carriage creaked, and I caught a slight glimpse of Missethwaite manor out of the carriage window, and my breath hitched. I looked at my Uncle, who was stirring in his sleep. I bit down on my lip, looking back out the window, watching as the manor very slowly grew in my visual field, seeming to tower over the entire moor, myself included. My uncle blinked as he woke up, and smiled warmly when he saw the manor looming over us.

"Ah, home" he said, obviously pleased to see the building. I smiled, but didn't trust myself to speak as we passed through a stone archway, and passed through an avenue of trees, which seemed to be darker that the moor itself, before the carriage stopped in front of the enormous, heavy oak doors of the house. One of the coach men came around and opened the carriage doors, and I let my uncle step out of the carriage first, before following him, my cloak wrapped around my shoulders. I watched as someone opened the door for us, and my uncle, gently taking my hand, led me into the enormous entrance hall. I looked around, my eyes filled with wonder, as I took in the portraits, and suits of armour, that lined the walls. I shook my head, making the hood of my cloak fall from my head, exposing my dark hair. I jumped a little as my uncle gently laid a hand on my shoulder, having removed his hat and coat.

"Come, you must be tired," he said, as a woman, who I recognized as the same woman who had come to fetch Mary, walked towards us, "this is Mrs. Medlock, the housekeeper" he introduced, and I bobbed a curtsey.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Medlock" I said, and she curtseyed back at me.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Lennox. Come, I shall show you to your room" she said, gesturing towards the grand staircase with one hand. An excited shout, however, made me stop in my tracts.

"Elizabeth!" I heard a very familiar voice cry out, and I looked to the top of the steps, my heart pounding in my chest as I saw my little sister, my Mary, standing there, a wide smile upon her features. She ran down the stairs, as I hurried forwards, meeting halfway across the entrance hall. I embraced her, smiling, tears of joy rolling down my cheeks.

"Mary! I missed you so much," I sobbed, burying my face in her shoulder, having dropped to my knees.

"I missed you too, Elizabeth" Mary said, a peculiar catch in her voice. I was shocked. I hadn't heard, or seen, Mary cry since she was about two years old, not even when our parents died. I pulled out of the embrace, holding her at arms length, and surveying her face. I could see that it was fuller than it had ever been more, and her hair was shinier, and fuller, than it had been in India. Over all, she looked so much healthier. A stark contrast to what I knew I looked like after my time in London.

"You look very well," I commented, and Mary nodded.

"It's the moor air, and being outside." She said, smiling. I laughed.

"Yes, that I believe," I said to her, "have you been enjoying yourself?"

"Yes, the gardens are wonderful, especially the secret Garden. I spend all of my time out there with Colin and Dickon, playing, and gardening."

"That's good. Tomorrow, you can show me, if you want to"

"Yes, I should like to show you. Elizabeth, why didn't you write back?" she asked her voice quiet and serious. I paused, biting my lip.

"I wasn't allowed to, Mary. I'm sorry, Mary, I really wanted to, but I wasn't allowed to."

"Why?" she asked. Several responses came to mind, but only one was appropriate for a young lady to say.

"I don't know" I settled myself with saying, and it wasn't a lie. Mary was, however, satisfied. I got up, and she stood beside me. I realized with a pang that she'd had a growth spurt since I saw her last.

"Elizabeth, you look tired." Mary commented, and Mrs. Medlock stepped forward, a smile upon her face.

"Yes, she does, doesn't she Mary? Why don't you go back to your room and go to bed, and you and your sister can meet in the morning?"

"Yes" Mary agreed, smiling up at me, before hurrying back up the stairs. Mrs. Medlock led me up the stairs, and down many corridors, up some more stairs, until we reached another corridor. Mrs. Medlock led me about half way along it, before stopping at a door. She opened it, pushing it open, and stepping aside so I could enter it. It was quite a large room, well lit by candles, with a large four poster bed, and tapestries decorating the walls. A dressing table stood against one wall, and a full length mirror stood in another corner. A writing desk stood near the window. I let out a gasp.

"Oh, it's wonderful" I told Mrs. Medlock, who smiled warmly.

"Yes dear, now I shall leave you to your rest. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Medlock."

I waited until the door had closed, before breaking into girlish giggles. I hurried across the room to examine the tapestries. They depicted forests, mostly. I admired the quality of the stitching, before beginning to undress myself. My suitcase had been brought up, and I fetched my nightdress, putting it on. I sat at the dressing table, brushing my hair for a few minutes, before climbing into bed and blowing out the last of the candles.

SG SG SG SG SG

When I awoke in the morning, someone was sweeping the hearth quietly. I glanced over to the window, and could see light shining through beneath the curtains. I sat up, stretching. The girl who was cleaning the hearth stood up, and turned around, smiling when she saw I was awake.

"Ah. I see tha' thee is awake. My name is Martha." The girl said in a broad Yorkshire accent that I found herself liking.

"Hello Martha, My name is Elizabeth."

"Aye, I know. Your Mistress Mary's sister. She's told us all about you"

"She has?"

"Oh yes. She was always saying after Lord Craven came back tha' it would be nice if you were there too."

"She did?"

"Aye. Lord Craven was tha' worried in tha' end tha' he decided to come and get thee. I think he thought somthin' had happened to thee"

"You'd be surprised how right he was" I whispered under my breath. Matilda moved to the wardrobe and began pulling out dresses. I got up, and chose a green dress. I dressed myself, which supposed Martha a bit. It was obvious that she expected me to be as dependent as Mary was when she came to England. I smiled away her offers to help, and sat down to a breakfast of porridge, which was heavenly. After finishing my bowl, I checked my reflection in the mirror, not that I cared what I looked like. If I had my way, I'd be with Mary out in the gardens today. Martha, having finished her chores in my room, offered to take me to Mary's room.

"Oh, that would be lovely, thank you" I replied, following Martha out of my room and down the corridor. We went down a flight of stairs, and down a corridor, until Martha stopped, knocking on a door. I heard Mary reply, and Martha opened the door. Mary was in the middle of the room, dressed in a pale cream and brown dress, a wide smile upon her face. She walked up to me, hugging me.

"Do you want to go out to the gardens?" she asked, and I nodded. She took my hand, waving cheerfully at Martha, who bobbed a curtsey and hurried away, before leading me through the manor. We hurried, as Mary was eager to show me the gardens, especially her 'secret garden', and I was no less eager to see it. She took me out a side door, and we wee outside. We walked through the kitchen gardens, and the orchid, Mary leading the way, an I following eagerly. I knew Mary was taking me straight to the Secret Garden.

We were walking along a stone path, with a narrow garden one side, and an ivy coated wall on the other. Somehow, I just knew that on the other side of the wall was the Secret Garden. Suddenly Mary stopped.

"Close your eyes." She instructed her voice serious. I did as I was told, and heard the sound of a key grating in a lock, and a door creaking open. Mary took my hand, and pulled on in gently. I stepped forward, letting her lead me.

"Keep your eyes closed" she told me. In the background, I heard someone giggle, before stifling their laughter. I paused, before moving on once more. The ground was sloping gently beneath our feet, and I could hear the rustling of bushes.

"Okay, open your eyes" Mary told me. I opened my eyes, and my jaw dropped. It was more wonderful than I imagined, than I remembered. The large tree with the swing was the same, and the roses, and the Ivy coated walls.

"Oh, Mary, it's beautiful." I told her, and she hugged me.

"I'm so glad you got to see it, Elizabeth" she said, and I smiled. I heard a slight noise and turned around. Two boys stood their, looking awkward. One looked to be about 12 or 13, and the other looked about Mary's age.

"Elizabeth, this is Colin, our cousin, and Dickon, Martha's brother. They helped me fix the garden up. They're my friends," Mary introduced. The younger boy, Colin, stepped forward, and shook my hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you at last, cousin" he told me. I let out a little laugh at his formal tone, and echoed it in my reply.

"The pleasure is all mine, dear cousin" I curtseyed. Dickon stepped forward shyly, mumbling his greetings. I smiled at him, hoping it would ease his nerves. Mary took my hand again, and we set off on a walk around the garden, with her showing me all the things she and the boys had done. I was so proud of her. Afterwards, we all sat under the tree, talking. Dickon showed me his animals, and let me sit with a newborn lamb in my lap. I rested my hand on its fleecy back, and stroked it as it made little bleating noises, and wagged its tail, which made us all laugh. After a while. Mary and I sat on the swing together, while Colin brought out a camera. While Colin took photos, Mary told me how she had been given photos of our mother and Colin's mother on the swing, and that there was even a photo that they had found with Our Aunt and I on the swing together.

It felt so good to be back with Mary, closer than we ever had been before, in a place where we both knew we belonged. Lord Craven takes great care with the both of us, as if we were his own daughters. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I actually belong to a family.

**A.N. THE END. I hope you**** have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Although this piece is finished, reviews are still greatly appreciated, as they will help me write better in other things I write.**

**Sorry about my poor attempt at a Yorkshire accent. It is surprisingly difficult to write those few lines of Martha's.**

**Hope you enjoyed it**

**R.W. **


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